While reading the biography of famed designer Bill Mitchell, you learn, much to your surprise, that you are an example of planned obsolescence.
Your inability to get a cab has nothing to do with your neighborhood or skin color. It’s because you live in Basco, WI, population 132.
You will experience a strange kind of moral and spiritual vertigo when you find yourself sympathizing with Army recruiters for the first time in your life.
Your acquisition of a state-of-the-art supercomputer will mark your entry into the elite, top rank of the world’s solitaire players.
You’re beginning to detect strong feelings of ill will from the other people at the office. You should stop showing up every day or get a job there.
Your best friend will finally prove to everyone’s satisfaction that his crippled old grandmother could take you in a fight.
Though they are brown and have two legs, they are kangaroos, not pants.
You will finally achieve a lifelong dream of getting on television when you jump up and down and wave while standing behind the teary, emotional reporter.
In dogsledding, persistence is everything. However, you’re starting to think that it would be easier to simply wait for winter.
After 14 long years, you will be admitted to the Baseball Hall Of Fame when you finally come up with the $11.50 admission price.
The stars would like to remind you that their birthday may be a ways off, but nothing on their list is exactly cheap.
You are starting to find yourself more and more obsessed with people who, unlike yourself, actually do things.
